


Happiness

by Anaquilibria



Series: Like connect the dots played in the dark: my fics in English [3]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Don't copy to another site, Drama, Established Relationship, M/M, Translation, and this site is thievish fanfics.me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-04
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2020-07-31 06:00:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20110285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anaquilibria/pseuds/Anaquilibria
Summary: Harry keeps coming back.An AU where Valentine won and Arthur is alive.





	Happiness

**Author's Note:**

> A translation of my ficlet [Счастье](https://archiveofourown.org/works/10324826/chapters/28117719). Unbetaed. Sorry for any mistakes; feel free to correct.
> 
> Disclaimer: Kingsman and all related indicia are trademarks of Marv Films and Twentieth Century Fox. ©
> 
> "Don't copy to another site" tag is a technical one meant to protect this fic from being stolen by one Russian site. I am actually okay with my fics or translations being placed elsewhere, but with my permission.

When the clock below quietly strikes midnight, Chester is not sleeping.

It’s not that he doen't want to, but the insomnia, strengthened in the last few years, became even stronger after the V-Day. Every time he closes his eyes Chester sees the shop's broken windows, ravaged streets, and bodies on the pavement; this is the last and the shortest war for many, many years to come, but it reminds Chester of another, the one that eventually led him to Kingsman.

Chester's eyes are open, but there's a smooth impenetrable darkness in front of them. Behind him, the floorboards creak faintly and the doorknob turns.

Harry approaches his bed almost silently. Chester doesn't turn; the blanket on the empty side rises, letting the cool air in, and Harry's icy legs press against Chester's. The pain is piercing; however, after a few silent minutes it fades, blissfully taking away the nagging in the joints and body fatigue, and Chester feels nothing but the coldness behind him.

Harry hugs Chester mutely. He comes to him every night after the V-Day, the same as he was lying on Kentucky concrete: empty-handed, suit bloodied and crumpled, hair disheveled, a dark hole instead of left eye.

Chester used to try to talk to him.

"It was an error in the plan,” Chester said once, “and Mr. Valentine had been punished for it.”

"Kingsman saves the lives in exchange for the others," he said a few nights later, and an ice cold finger touched his lips. Chester wouldn't have been surprised if his mouth had frozen shut.

Harry didn’t do anything else: he didn’t speak, didn’t appear in daylight—he just kept coming back, and when Chester still used to turn to the sound of the footsteps, he saw that Harry's expression was the same, the usual blank politeness. Chester wasn't sure if Harry’s only eye showed anything, and he didn’t want to look closely.

What would he see? Does Harry know he died because of Chester?

If Harry is his hallucination, then surely yes. This is surprisingly worrying for Chester, maybe because it's the disappointment of his own subconscious accepting the form of Harry; maybe because even imaginatory Harry's disappointment is painful in itself.

Harry would've made an excellent Arthur; however, he would've hardly withstood having this title for long. Now Merlin is the most likely to become Arthur, as soon as he eventually finds out about Chester's involvement in the V-Day; Kingsman has neither the time nor the resources for tribunals, and Chester will be killed just as those whom the agency considers traitors, quickly and quietly, in one of the mansion's cellars. He is not afraid and not worried: after all, when he made the decision, he had already known the end of the story.

Maybe someday one of the next Arthurs will understand that the salvation of mankind is still the salvation of mankind, regardless of the price.

Maybe—this probability cannot be neglected—two shots, in the head and in the heart, won't bring the peace of nonexistence, and the time when Harry hugs Chester, his hand cold and heavy, is the sole reassurance available for Chester, the peak point, the payment for what was done.

Chester squeezes Harry's hand in his, feeling complete; he cannot go back and save Harry, but at least here and now Harry is with him.

He closes his eyes, wishing to say “Forgive me,” but when he opens them again, it is already morning.


End file.
